


A Parting Gift

by Esloriath



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bonding, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 01:59:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8949250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esloriath/pseuds/Esloriath
Summary: While polyjuiced to look like Percival Graves, Gellert Grindlewald commits an act with unforeseen circumstances.------------"He didn’t realize the effect of pressure on his hard-learned control until he stood before the President of MACUSA and lost his case. When it flew across the room and into the hands of a stranger he felt a cramp in his stomach, nausea rolling up towards his throat."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys, thanks for reading!! I know I should be working on my other stories, but I'm just so in love with FBAWTFT and can't resist the urge. I'm a huge A/B/O fan and every day another fic like this pops up makes me so happy. Just as a warning, I'm horrible about finishing stories - I am a terrible person who writes for their own guilty pleasure, so I tend to write awful and gratuitous things that are more for my own enjoyment than being particularly good. But I still thought I should share, so please enjoy!! The particulars of this version of A/B/O will clarify as the story continues, but feel free to ask any questions!

    Newt should have known he couldn’t hide forever.

    One day, someone was bound to find out that he was an omega - or he would tell someone. Not that there was anything wrong with it. Oh no, quite the opposite, for a known omega rarely went unmated for long. His gender was highly valued for their unusual ambient magic. Omegas possessed large reservoirs of magic and much of it actually lived outside of the body where they could manipulate it skillfully to their will. As the saying went, while alphas claimed physical territory their omegas claimed nonphysical territory with their ambient magic. Along with scent and behavior it was how others could tell if one was an omega.

    Perhaps it was unhealthy, and Newt felt rather daft about it himself, but he had learned to pull his in close. By leashing it as closely to his body as possible - in much the same way as an alpha tended to - he could appear as a beta, whose magic rested comfortably beneath their skin. It had the added benefit of seeming magically nonthreatening to his creatures and some scent-dampening tablets ensured no one had any idea of who he was.

    He didn’t realize the effect of pressure on his hard-learned control until he stood before the President of MACUSA and lost his case. When it flew across the room and into the hands of a stranger he felt a cramp in his stomach, nausea rolling up towards his throat.

    “No, please don’t do this- nothing in there is dangerous! Don’t hurt my creatures, none of them are dangerous-”

    He tensed where he knelt, arms bound behind him. The aurors grabbed Jacob and Tina and started urging them towards the doors. When rough hands clamped down on his shoulders Newt could hardly help the desperation pounding at his heart, the way his pleas broke off in a high keening noise in his throat… The way his control slipped and his magic freed itself from its cage and filled the room like a thundercloud.

    A pause. The hands on him let go as though electrocuted. Madam President Picquery’s jaw ticked as she stared him down. A frankly threatening alpha stare.

    “Question the omega gently, Graves.” She commanded. And with far less force than before, an auror’s hands on his shoulders pulled his taut body out of the room.

    Newt found the walk to the interrogation room nearly unbearable. He’d forgotten what it was like to allow his magic out of his body as nature had intended, hovering around him. It brushed up against the magic of those they passed like a raw, exposed nerve, searing him and overstimulating him. He could feel as they passed the odd omega, glaring at him for passing too closely to their magical auras, or the alphas escorting him through the halls of MACUSA with their own magic bubbling along their skin like explosions waiting to occur. He tried to control it but after so long it was as though his magical aura had a mind of its own, twisting away from his grasp. Newt curled in on himself, freckled chin drawn towards his chest.

    He could only imagine how much worse it would be without his tablets dampening his ability to smell everyone around him. He felt much too overwhelmed as it was.

    The aurors brought him into the interrogation room - black walls and floor, only a table and two chairs in the middle with a light overhead. A small room, that stifled him, made Newt’s magic feel claustrophobic and trapped. One of the aurors, a man, pushed him towards a chair(much more lightly than he would have were Newt not an omega, he surmised) and they left him alone.

    Newt could feel the flare of a spell, likely locking the door, and their presence as they waited outside. His eyes darted around, shoulders drooping. Years of hiding himself, blown away in an instant.

    _I can’t believe this…_ He thought miserably. What would his brother think? Theseus had been the one to help him, finding him the tablets and showing him the methods that alphas used to control their magic - considered a courtesy to omegas, who had the right to magical space and to avoid causing them discomfort. Theseus would be so disappointed in him… Assuming Newt made it out of this in one piece.

    Most importantly, he couldn’t allow his creatures to be harmed. He _had_ to convince MACUSA that they weren’t dangerous, that they were not responsible for the attack on the muggle.

    Newt dropped his chin when someone entered the room, staring at the polished black table as the door was locked again. He didn’t want to look up, he could feel the alpha’s too-bright magic, fancied he could almost detect traces of a musky scent… It was too much.

    The man dropped into the seat across from Newt. Hair slicked back, wearing a vest and tie in a casual disarray, and a forbidding dark stare that bored into him even before Newt looked up. The omega leaned forwards as though to curl up, shifting his arms to relieve the pain of his chains.

    “Mr. Scamander…”

    When the alpha spoke he couldn’t resist the unspoken command to meet his eyes, his terrifying black eyes. It was like looking at a hippogriff, he thought, where one wrong move could mean instant death. Newt immediately cast his face downwards again.

    A confusing line of questioning followed. After referencing his humiliating expulsion from Hogwarts, the man he learned to be Mr. Graves asked a number of questions about the supposed Obscurus in the city - alarming questions, about the nature of its relationship to the host, if the host were even required.

Then Mr. Graves fell silent. Like a slow, insidious hand his magic inched out and brushed against Newt’s aura where it filled the room.

“Mr. Graves, what are you-” Newt gasped, “Please stop, that’s very invasive-”

“You are an interesting man, Mr. Scamander.” The Auror said, gazing on him curiously. He stood and slowly rounded the table until he stood behind Newt. “That you managed to hide so long is shocking to me, given your very omega-like body language… and appearance. Although I suppose it could have been explained as an affectation of your trade, but there’s no explaining away your reaction to this-”

The man’s hands slammed onto the table, arms effectively caging him in. Newt quickly drew in on himself to appear smaller and his head fell forwards, the nape of his neck bared. Newt’s freckled cheeks flushed pink and he blinked away the humiliated tears that stung the corners of his eyes.

“Mr. Graves, I don’t understand where you are going with this.” He whispered, eyes fixed on the floor. A large warm hand fumbled with the first button on his shirt and Newt nearly jumped out of his skin. That was out of line, too close - too much like…

“Mr. Graves!” He said as urgently as he could manage. “What on earth-”

“Hush.” The auror’s breath fanned against the back of his neck. “You wish to ensure the safety of your creatures, do you not? Be. Still.”

For his creatures. Yes, for them he could keep still. But Newt didn’t understand why, what Mr. Graves was trying to do…

Ignoring everything in him that screamed otherwise, he sat unmoving while the alpha pulled at his shirt to expose more skin and gently tilted his head to the side. Then pain, an astounding pain when teeth sank into the juncture of neck and shoulder, white-hot and darting beneath his skin. His body drew tight as a bowstring, breath catching as his mouth worked in a soundless scream.

Then all at once as the alpha’s venom sank in, bonding them together and sedating him in one fell swoop, Newt’s body turned to jelly. His muscles forcibly relaxed and he flopped against the back of the chair. Eyelids drooped over dilated pupils. His vision went hazy, fogging at the edges. Newt couldn’t remember for anything exactly what he’d been so worried about just moments before. The teeth withdrew, lips and tongue soothing the skin so cruelly marked while a thumb caught tears he hadn’t realized he’d shed.

Without Newt’s permission his magic wrapped around the alpha in return, stroking and embracing. But the magic it touched felt wrong, it didn’t match up to the lips on his neck or the faint scent in his nostrils.

As his vision finally went black he caught words. “...parting gift for him, if you will… see… how he reacts...”

Unconsciousness had never felt so sweet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all of the kind feedback to this story! Onwards to the next chapter!

Newt woke in a cell with Tina and Jacob. The former auror hovered worriedly, her neutral beta scent soothing him. Wait, her scent-

    A frown pulled at his lips. He winced when he sat up, pain lancing out from his shoulder where he gloomily realized he’d been bitten. And if he could smell that Tina and Jacob were betas, then they could definitely… Oh.

    Jacob stood in the corner fidgeting, tugging at his sleeves. He glanced from Tina to Newt as though  unsure what to do.

“Newt, I’m so sorry,” Tina said, carefully avoiding touching him from where she sat at the edge of the bed bolted into the wall. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen… I had no idea.”

He neglected to respond to the way she suspiciously looked as his neck and inhaled, as though wondering if he’d been bitten. Yet there was no way she would be able to tell without seeing the bite. Tina hardly knew what he smelled like normally, let alone when mated - and for some reason this… Mr. Graves hadn’t scent-marked him. If one didn’t see the aching place on his neck they might be forgiven for thinking him unmated.

Newt could feel it though. He could tell in the way his magic floated about the room, searching for his mate, and the way his skin smelled blank like it wanted another scent- his alpha’s scent.

His attention was thankfully diverted by Jacob’s subtle shifting on the other side of the room.

“There is no need to avoid me, Jacob.” Newt said with a sigh. “I am hardly contagious.”

The muggle inched closer. “Well, it’s only that I overheard some of those other guys’ orders. They said not to get too close-or you might panic.”

“That’s because they were alphas.” Tina said.

“I don’t understand.”

Oh, Tina. With MACUSA’s strict security the wizards in New York were as ignorant of muggle custom just as it was the other way round.

“Muggles are all betas.” Newt’s fingers curled around his knees as he spoke softly. Astonishment lifted the woman’s eyebrows. “Jacob, I am an omega as I’m sure you can at least smell. It is part of our… biology… that an alpha presence can be very threatening to us in certain circumstances.”

Which was why, even as a beta, Jacob found Queenie’s omega presence captivating. And unlike Newt, whose forced bonding was the exception rather than the rule, she was treated with great care everywhere she went.

    Jacob’s mouth formed a silent ‘oh.’ He appeared to have more questions, but was reluctant to ask. They were interrupted by Queenie’s timely arrival, bearing their wands and Newt’s case as her shoes clicked hurriedly over the polished floor.

    Newt’s control over his magical aura was fragile - ‘ _Or nonexistent’_ , his mind supplied - and so he very much appreciated the way the other omega pulled hers in close with a sympathetic smile. With quick work on Pickett’s part they were freed, carried out of the Woolworth building in Newt’s case by a brave Queenie.

    Everything after that was a blur. Nearly losing Pickett and finding Dougal were enough of a distraction that he could almost forget about the events in the interrogation room at MACUSA, except he couldn’t find his scent-dampening tablets in his case(that man must have taken them for some reason, there was no other explanation, and those things were damn hard to find at the best of times). Their loss meant that his long dormant sense of smell was fast returning. He found it difficult to be around others, but the occasional alpha or omega especially. He knew Queenie was doing her best to accommodate him by keeping a distance, for which he was very grateful, but coping with these changes was proving much harder than he could have imagined. Every time someone turned towards him on the street, puzzled, he hid behind one of the others, telling himself that he could ignore it.

    He also discovered how little he enjoyed others being able to smell the telltale omega sweetness and especially being able to read him through his magic - for an omega’s moods manifested through it and he despised that. It felt exposing and far too vulnerable to have any stranger know exactly how he felt at any given moment. It simply wasn’t their business, in his opinion. He knew Tina and Queenie meant well by it, but the way they had begun reacting to his magic rather than his words was becoming bothersome. Like the numerous times he’d reassured them that he was in fact fine and they continued to press him, only stopping when it became quite clear - through that cursed aura of his - that he’d had enough.

    He’d kept his mind off this dilemma well enough until he was in the subway, knelt on the tracks and speaking kindly to poor Credence. The boy could hardly hold his power in and agony rolled off him in waves. It shifted against him in highly uncomfortable waves and - oh dear.

    The boy was an omega.

    It all made sense now, just why the mother had hated him so and why he had tried so hard to suppress his own magic. It reminded Newt of himself in a way. A very discomfiting way, that is.

    “Credence.” He said, eyes fixed on the boy’s shoes to avoid spooking him. Newt kept away, knowing all too well how poorly close quarters would affect him. But then again, a touch starved omega might _need_ the comfort.

    _‘This is beyond me at the moment,’_ he thought. _‘He needs someone else, someone whose magic won’t challenge his.’_

    A pale blue jet burst from the darkness of the tunnel and caught Newt in the stomach as he turned. His body skidded across the subway tracks and the cold iron under his back brought a pained yell out of him. He heard the footsteps of Credence fleeing but his attention was captured by the man striding towards him with a raised wand.

    It was Graves with an angry snarl on his lips. But he smelled all wrong, not the same as he remembered, and Newt’s magic wasn’t reacting the way it should to a bondmate-

    The man’s magic flew out of his body in a torrent, shoving against Newt’s. It wasn’t the humiliating caress from the interrogation room but a horribly threatening thing that forced his body into a tight ball of pitiful whimpers. He would resist it or perhaps even retaliate in the same manner but the omega’s shoddy grasp over his newly freed aura wouldn’t allow it.

    “I’ve no idea how you managed your escape, you clever little thing.” Graves’ rough voice began. “But I can’t have you ruining this-”

    The black shroud of the Obscurus rose above them. Graves cut off his sentence and paused, hands raised in the air to pacify. Newt struggled to get his arms under him and rose into a crouch.

    “Credence…” Graves said.

    The cloud attacked and Newt could only be thankful that he didn’t splinch when he apparated. His back pressed against the brick wall of the tunnel, aftershocks from Graves’ magical assault roving up and down his body. _‘Get it together, Scamander!’_ He scolded himself.

    Later when the aurors had dared to kill the innocent Credence and the Swooping Evil had Graves contained, Newt realized that something was very wrong with the man. Not only were his scent and magic all wrong but Newt should feel something - anything - from him. But nothing.

    This wasn’t his real alpha.

    The knowledge spurred him forward into casting the Revelio and to everyone’s shock the face of Mr. Graves melted into the most infamous visage in the wizarding world.

    “Do you think you can hold me?” He asked.

    One brow rose on Picquery’s face. “We’ll do our best, Mr. Grindelwald.”

    Gellert Grindelwald stared up at Picquery with that same flat quality that Newt had experienced before. When the auror’s led him past Newt a slow smile curled the dark wizard's mouth and then he was gone. The omega collapsed against the wall with hunched shoulders.

    He’d been bitten by Gellert Grindelwald, he realized with a choked off sound. But then with the man in the same room he’d felt nothing pulling them together, as though they’d never bonded at all. He had also smelled different than before, and after his glamour fell… ‘ _Polyjuice_ ’ he thought. The potion would change Grindelwald's body without altering his magic, which meant that the physical alpha venom used to bond him-

    Belonged to the real Mr. Graves.

    The next day found Newt in Picquery’s office, seated across the desk from her. Her scent was nice enough, rich and full, but overpowering in the small space. The portraits on her walls leered at him from above finely upholstered sofas and glowing teak bookshelves. The President sat upright in her chair, hands curled around the edges of the armrests.

    “We owe you an apology and a debt, Mr. Scamander.” She said.

    “Newt, please.” He said, futilely attempting to reign in his ambient magic so that she couldn’t read him, couldn’t tell how intimidating he found her scent and the icy power pulsing under her skin.

    “Newt.” She said, appearing force a kinder expression. It wasn’t insincere, but seemed rusty from lack of use. “Believe me, the presence of an omega has just as much of an effect. I am told that you have hidden your identity since you presented?”

    _‘Tina,’_ He lamented inwardly. ‘ _Why did you have to mention that?’_

    “Yes.” He answered, hiding his eyes behind his fringe. “I didn’t want-”

    _‘To be different. To be pursued, courted by the same cruel people who-’_

    “-to catch everyone’s attention.” He finished lamely.

    “Understandable.” Picquery said. “I asked you here to ask about something Grindelwald said to my aurors. He told us that he’d bitten you. Is this true?”

    Newt’s jaw tensed and his eyes blinked rapidly. He swallowed down the immediate excuses that itched to be spoken, that it wasn’t his fault-

    “It is, Madam President.”

    “And yet he attacked you.” She stated.

    “I believe he was drinking polyjuice.” He said quietly.

    For a moment the alpha woman didn’t respond, only paused to consider. Newt could tell when she understood the implications from the way she clenched the arms of her chair and the minute change in her scent. An appraising eye was cast up and down his form, the slight twitch of the corner of her mouth. Picquery was not a highly emotive person, but very expressive in the smallest of ways - but harder to for Newt to guess what she was thinking.

    “Then you are bonded to the real Percival Graves.” She said. “And he has no idea.”

    “I didn’t mean to-” She cut him off with a shake of her head.

    “You cannot be blamed for the actions of a madman. All you can do is move forward and heal. You must first acknowledge that this was not your fault.”

    Her face softened. “That situation must have been horrible. I apologize that it happened in my Congress on my watch. I will do my best to make it up to you. But before then, we must decide what to do.”

    “What to do?” Newt asked.

    “My aurors found Mr. Graves trapped in his home, likely kept by Grindelwald for the polyjuice potion. He is unconscious in our hospital wing. If you find when he wakes that the two of you are truly bonded, what do you intend to do?”

    “I don’t know.” He said glumly. “I don’t know him and I’m hardly ready-”

    “Mr.Graves is a good friend of mine, Newt. I think you’ll find him surprising. I also think that you are beyond ready to be mated.”

    Newt’s ears flushed. That was hardly what he wanted to be told and, really, who was she to declare when he should mate. Something of that must have shown in his aura by the way Picquery frowned.

    She glared despite the omega’s refusal to meet her gaze. “It’s true. Your magic was shocking to me at first, but now that I sit across from you I can feel how your lack of a mate affects it. Your magic is weakening. You can live this way for a time, but eventually you need a bondmate’s pheromones to strengthen your magical core. I’m no healer, but even I know that.”

    “That’s- incredibly personal.” He spluttered. “My magic is perfectly fine.”

    She scoffed. “You are a much smarter man than that, Newt. And your magic is not the only unmet need you must have with your lifestyle. At the very least, I implore you to meet Percival. I think you may even like him. Merlin knows it’s about time the man bonded.”

    Damn. Newt could actually smell the honesty coming off of her. And truly, would it hurt to at least have a conversation with the man? After all, perhaps he would walk in and find that they weren’t even mated. Then Newt could go on his merry way and be done with the whole thing.

    “Fine.” He said at last. “I’ll speak with him.”


End file.
